Saints and Daemons
by Vampire Tenshi Kage
Summary: IT's about Vincent's life. Take a guess. Read it and like it.


This is the longest serious fic I ever wrote. Period. Oh, like they said in 6, 'the world is square' 

They own everything in gaming worth owning. I own..... the title. I'll try to write more on it and flesh out my idea of the rest of Vinny's life for ya'll. In case anybody wonders, I am not trying to make Cid and Vinny gay....although that would make for one heck of a fic....   
  


Without further adeu-   
  


Saints and Daemons   
  


Vincent Valentine woke from a fitful sleep for the third time that night. His crimson eyes snapped open and an un-gloved hand swept back bangs that had formerly been plastered to his forehead by sweat. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the last lingering images of the dream. 

The room was dead silent, except for the hum of the Highwind's engines. Glancing to his left, Vincent noticed that dawn was barely breaking. No one would be up and about at such an ungodly early hour. The tall man lethargically sat on the end of the bed, pondering if a walk would do him any good. 

Random thoughts flooded his mind and would not leave, no matter how hard he tried to push them away. What disturbed him the most was that the dream collided too much with reality. A reality Vincent would much rather had left buried with the remnants of a past that, in his opinion, was better left six feet under. 

With a push and a sigh, Vincent heaved himself to his feet, stretching like a lazy cat. Grabbing his cape and wrapping it tightly about his face and body, Vincent pushed open the door and stepped out into the hallway. 

A cool rush of air snaked its way past the cape and into his face, but Vincent paid it no mind. He wandered the halls of the great airship until he found himself out on the deck. From what he could guess, they weren't far from Nebelhiem, with the unmistakably bleak mountains of that horrid place looming over the otherwise flat landscape. The same dark place seemed to loom over Vincent's very being, his soul. And the ship helped little, moving so slowly about the landscape. 

His unbound hair flew in every direction, giving his already strange appearance a new twist. But, Vincent was far beyond caring as he realized that nothing he was presently doing was helping his problem. Coming out and seeing the particular landscape that greeted him was far from comforting. As Vincent turned to head back into the ship, the hatch door creaked open. Cid's blonde head poked out, sans cigarette. 

"Ack. You look *#%@ worse in the morning than I do. That's saying a lot!" Cid laughed as he stepped all the way out on the deck, slamming the door shut behind him. The only response Vincent gave was a raised eyebrow. 

"But really. What are you doing out here so early? I usually don't see you until seven. It's only six." Cid continued, giving Vincent a 'what gives' look. 

"I was not aware that it offended you that I do not get up consistently at the same time every single day of the year. I apologize if it does, but right now I do not care." Vincent sounded irritated at the gruff pilot. 

"What is eatin' you? You sound @)*%% annoyed!" Cid gazed up at Vincent, trying his best to look stern and full of authority. 

"Nothing you would understand." was the reply. 

"Try me. I understand and know a lot more than any of you )*@%^% knuckle heads give me credit for." Cid shot back, his eyes shining intensely. 

"I do not desire to tell you...." Vincent muttered, for all the world sounding like a lost child. This was a change to Cid, who only saw a stern, upright character with little regard for feelings. 

Cid was taken back by Vincent's sudden change. He looked concerned as he said, "What's so bad that it makes you, of all people, sound like a kid?" 

Vincent's eyes took on a hollow, haunted look. He hesitated before saying, "My.....past. What I have done and what has been done to me........" 

Cid didn't know what to say. He had been with the group the shortest amount of time and had little exposure to Vincent alone. Vincent had always seemed stern and cold, incapable of emotion, in Cid's own thoughts. Now, that same man looked tired, scared and all alone. However, Cid knew that Vincent should talk to someone, if only to air out his emotions. 

"Vince," Cid said, in a surprisingly soft voice, "you should tell me about what's bothering you. Believe it or not, it really helps things." 

Vincent muttered softly, "Do you want to know everything? It is a long story, but it keeps haunting me. Weeks ago, I started having these far-fetched dreams about the world and my involvement in it. Ever since, the dreams get more like things used to be and I am afraid that I'll see something, perhaps in the future, that could push me over the edge. The nightmares even warp things happening now. I saw us fighting Sephiroth, except that he was some kind of horrible creature that was extraordinarily powerful. In another, the next night, he was like a one-winged angel fallen from grace and honor. I think I may be going mad......" 

"Yes. Tell me everything. I am not a (#%*^ Sigmund Freud, but I took psychology in school. I remember s#)@# #)#% stuff." Cid said quickly. "And I won't tell you that you have a sub-conscious desire to sleep with your mother." 

"Mother....." Vincent's eyes held a far away look. Before Cid could say another word, Vincent launched into a shocking story.   
  


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A young boy sat on the porch of a rickety house in Midgar. Trash and dirt littered the streets everywhere and a breeze sent debris rolling along like tumble weeds. The boy, no more than nine, gazed longingly at the solid plate above his head. 

"I'm gonna live up there someday......Mommy will come live with me and we can be happy...." Little Vincent's eyes shined at the thought of living atop the gigantic plate that blocked out the sunlight. A dog barked in the distance, and Vincent pulled himself from the oversized plastic chair he sat in and wandered into the five room home. 

On a whim, he wandered into his mother's room. It was hers and hers alone, for his father rarely frequented the house anymore. When he did, it was usually bad for Vincent and his mom. 

The boy walked across the threshold of the room and his mother gently called, "Is that you, Vinny?" 

"Yes, mommy." Vincent, or Vinny, solemnly answered. He hurried over to the edge of the bed and gazed at his mother a moment. 

Her form was thin and ghost-like, she could easily have been a wraith conjured by the lone thoughts of a little boy. Her head was propped up on pillows, and her vivid green eyes stared into the depths of the room. They looked far off and distant, not focusing on anything in particular. Blindness, results of the woman's overly kind heart and caring nature, was the culprit that had not allowed his mother to see him in three years. Fine, pale red hair framed an angelic face that was haunting in it's thinness, yet still held a look of long lost authority. 

A loose nightgown failed to hide a gaunt hide with ribs poking through. Little remained of the muscle built upon the body in the days of serving king and country, in the days of fair government and kind law enforcers... In the days of the past, she had been a great officer of the law. But, now she was reduced to such a pathetic state. 

Vinny flinched as a cough racked his mother's body. Medicine was hard to find in the slums, especially for a kid in Sector 6. She only suffered from the flu, but any sickness was hard to cure in such a desolate place. Only the wealthy or the thieving could obtain those needed items. Vincent was neither, at least not yet. 

"What have you been doing?" His mother asked, as she reached out a long fingered hand to claw the air for her son. 

Vincent grasped her hand and muttered, "I looked for a job, but nobody would hire me. I've been lookin' ever since Mr. Pete died, but they don't think I could help. I told them I could run errands and clean and stuff, but they just cursed and drove me out..." He looked on the verge of tears as he spoke. He felt ashamed for not being able to help his mother. 

"Don't worry about it. We'll think of something. Don't loose hope, my son. Hope is the basis of so many things in this world. People explore in hope of discovering new things. People work in hope of making things better than they already are." She smiled as she talked softly. That smile was one of few things that made Vincent truly happy. But, another though lurked in the boy's mind. 

"I heard Roger say that dad's coming back this way. He'll come........I don't want him to. I hope he doesn't..." He rattled on absently, fear masking his face. It evidently carried heavily in his voice as well. His mother replied a moment later. 

"He's your father, Vincent. You don't need to fear him." She stated calmly. 

The boy shuddered as he stammered, "N-no! He's gonna hurt us again! Just like last time! He made you this way in the first place!" His face contorted with the memory of his father purposely blinded his mother with harsh chemicals, and no one really knew why. Vincent only knew that his mother being blinded started a chain of events that would bring him to the brink of breaking. Vincent's heart and soul burned with hatred and fear of the man. That memory always made the normally apathetic boy's mind flash with thoughts that such young ones should not have. Thoughts of violence that was starting to twist a pure soul. 

His mother did not answer him. Vinny guessed that she didn't want to argue the subject with him. Instead, she turned the talk to a lighter subject. "Sheila's daughter, Elmyra, has a cat with kittens. She said if you wanted, you could come and pick a kitten for yourself. I think it would be good for you to have a pet." 

"I dunno if we can afford a cat. Even a lil' kitten. Cash is low and your retirement check don't come for another couple 'a weeks." Vincent muttered, but he secretly wished for something like a fuzzy kitten to be his friend. Vincent was shy and didn't have any friends at all, only connections. 

"Well, why don't you go get one? I don't think it would be that hard to take care of it. For a couple of weeks it would only drink milk anyway." She responded, hoping that the boy would listen to her. She knew that Vincent needed a real friend, even if it was just an animal. She heard Vinny sigh in resignation and knew he would do as she bade him. 

"Okay, but only cuz' you say so. I'll go now, I think. I'd rather not go out after dark. It's scary and unsafe." Vince muttered as he turned to go. His mother's face held an expression of concern as he left to make his way to Sheila's house. He knew that she worried about him, he knew it a lot. He also knew that he worried about her as much as she worried about him. 

Being the good boy that he was, Vincent set off to fetch himself a kitten...   
  


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"I didn't know you was from Midgar.." Cid muttered eventually. 

"That is just where I was raised. My mother was from Wutai and I was born in Junon. We lived on the beach until mother was............ And then things got worse from there.." Vincent answered. He looked nervous, as if he didn't want to go on with the story. That happened to be the truth. 

"Yer ma sounded like good woman." Cid mumbled, lighting a cigarette. 

"She was. And...that habit is going to be the death of you." Vincent coughed as the smoke lingered around his delicate nose. 

"Don't concern yourself about my habits and what's gonna kill me. Remember, this is your therapy session with Doctor Cid!" Cid shot Vincent a thumbs up and smiled, cig. dangling from his lips. 

Vincent sighed and looked skeptical at Cid's last remark. If he was the laughing type, he certainly would have at the notion of Cid Highwind, ace pilot, being a doctor of any type. Vincent decided he'd maybe tell Cloud that later. Either he'd get it or he'd be confused, all the more enjoyment for mono-tone Vincent. "Somehow, that does not comfort me as much as you seem to think it should." 

"Wha-? Why you )#%)%*) #)$%) #$) of a #)*$)*$*)$!!!! I take time outta my $))*)*% day to try to console your )#)%*%) soul and this is the _#$(#_((# appreciation I get?" Cid's cig seemed to glow brighter than Vincent had ever seen, and it cast an eerie glow on the enraged pilot's face. 

"I did not mean to offend. Please accept my most humble apologies." Vincent bowed as he spoke, hoping Cid would realize that Vincent was indeed capable of sarcasm when the time called for such. After observing for a moment that Cid was still steaming, Vincent muttered, "I was being sarcastic, Cid." 

This seemed to stun the gruff man, then Cid busted out laughing like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "...*cackle*.. You were being.. *inhale*..sarcastic...? Ohmigod... I didn't think..*chuckle* that was possible!!!" 

Ordinarily, Vincent would have been miffed at being laughed at in such a way, but he figured laughing Cid was better than angry Cid. "Haha....yes......funny...." Vincent muttered, as only someone whose been made fun of and rather let it slide by, could. Any expression vanished from his smooth face and he arched a graceful eyebrow at Cid's continued hysterics. "Alright, it wasn't that funny!" Vincent half shouted. 

Cid straitened up and the only remnants of the outburst was a smirk on his rugged face. "Okay, Vince. You win. I'll stop." The smirk faded as he pondered what he knew about Vincent so far. He was curious to know more. "What happened after you went to get yer cat?" He asked, as he tilted his head to one side. 

"Back to the story...."   
  
  
  


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The young boy that was Vincent darted between suspicious strangers and haggard vagabonds. Elmyra's house was only a few blocks away, but he had heard of one woman who walked across the street only to wind up dead in the garbage. Therefore, he was very careful of where he tread. 

He ducked and wove until he reached Elmyra's house. A girl Vincent's age sat on a rickety white-washed front porch. Balls of fluff and fuzz romped about her feet, mewing happily. A slim brown tabby curled up in her lap as the girl saw Vincent coming. 

"Hey Vinny!" She shouted, startling the cat in her lap. Vincent came running and jumped up the stairs and nearly fell back down them. "Ha ha! Silly boy! You shouldn't do that! Your gonna fall down and hurt yourself!" 

Vincent scowled slightly and muttered, "No, I won't. One day, I'll jump and run like a hero! And...and....and........" The boy pondered a moment before shouting, "I'm gonna fly!" 

Elmyra rolled her eyes and stated, "Yeah right! That's what all the boys say! You'll never fly, except in one of them airplanes!" 

Vincent scooped up a kitten and studied it intently before saying, "I will fly. Wit no airplane, at that! Girls are so stupid!" The grey kitten mewed and placed a paw on Vincent's nose, tiny claws extended. 

"Are not!.....Why are you messin' with my kittens? You wont one?" Her muddy green eyes bored into Vincent's own dark brown. 

"..Yeah. Momma said I should get a pet.........I guess I need a friend, like a cat...." Vincent's lips poked out in a pout, and jet black bangs fell in his face. 

"I'm not your friend?" Elmyra asked, almost offended. 

Vincent snorted and muttered, "Your a girl. I guess you can be my friend, but not my best friend! My best friend will be my kitten!!!" The boy looked serious and puffed out his chest to emphasize his detest in having a friend that was a girl. 

"Vinny.." Elmyra stated. 

"...Yeah?" He replied. 

"The kitten your holding.....is a girl....." Elmyra smiled triumphantly, knowing she had trapped Vincent with his statements. "And...what do you have against girls...?" 

Vincent pondered a moment before stating in a matter-o-fact way, "So? Even if she's a girl, she's still a cat. Pets don't count in stuff like dat! And I don't have anything against girls. My mommy happens to be a girl, incase you didn't notice. But, I don't want people thinkin' I like you or someting!" 

Elmyra scrunched up her nose at the thought and nodded in agreement. She thought Vincent was nice, for a boy. But, she also thought he was too weird, with his long tangled hair and obsession with the colors red and black. "Okay, I get it. I know wha you mean." 

The kitten in Vinny's arms squirmed and wiggled, leaping from his arms and landing safely on the wooden porch. Vincent looked at the kitten, thinking of a name. She sat like a regal animal, although she wobbled with the clumsiness of youth. Brilliant blue eyes, wide with wonder, stared at him with shining intelligence. What drew Vincent to her the most was her coat. She was light grey with darker bands of grey running all over her body and she almost looked like molten silver. Then, it hit Vincent like a summon materia. 

"I'll call her Silver!!!" Vincent cried, startling all the cats and Elmyra. Silver just looked at him and mewed. "I wanna take her home now." 

Elmyra nodded and told him to go take care of his kitten or she'd come and reclaim her. Vincent ran back to his house, the kitten contentedly laying in his small arms.   
  


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"Elmyra was your childhood friend? Seems like everybody around here has one of those... Hey! I just remembered, Elmyra was Arith's foster mom! Did you know that, Vince?" Cid peered at Vincent to see what he'd say. 

Vincent though a moment before saying, "I heard Cloud say something about that once. I really didn't think it was true, because he was drunk at the time. And....why do you keep calling me 'Vince'?" 

"I'm too lazy to say 'Vincent' and I have nicknames for everybody around here." Cid muttered, flicking the butt of his cig. off the side of the airship. 

"Oh really? What kind of nicknames have you concocted for the others?" Vincent asked, with intense curiosity. 

"Okay. Cloud is Spike. Arith was Blossom. Tifa is Becky." Cid paused a moment. 

"Why is Tifa 'Becky'?" Vincent inquired, not knowing the connection. 

"Okay, there was a morning radio show I used to listen to when I was a kid. There was a woman on there called 'Becky Bigtops' and she had....big.....well....ya' know, like Tifa!" Cid just grinned as Vincent raised an eyebrow. Vincent would have asked further questions about that, but being the wise man he was, he didn't. 

"Right....," Cid continued. "I call Barret the mighty Mr. T. I call Red XIII by the name of Blue, just 'cause it irritates him. Cait Sith is simply known as Dog. I just call Yuffie a pain in the ass." 

"Okay......Just one more question for the moment." 

"Shoot, Vince ol' boy." 

"....I just won't ask about what you just said, but why do you keep interrupting me? This is the second time you've done it." Vincent frowned slightly and stared at Cid until he answered. 

"I dunno. I guess to keep you from looking so sad it makes me want to shoot myself. I might be tough and gruff, but I'll admit I have a softer side that doesn't prefer to see people on my ship so sad. That's why I pester you so much. Be happy, or you'll never be rid of me and my cigs!!!" Cid waved the tobacco product in Vincent's face. 

Vincent made a face and grabbed the pack from Cid's outstretched hand and threw them off the side of the ship. Cid's look was priceless. He looked as if Vincent had just thrown his best friend off the side. Some would say he did. 

"...you.....threw......my....cigs.......offa...the.....side....of...the....ship...... WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?!" Cid had little vains popping out all over his neck. Vincent regarded him a moment, then shrugged. Cid's anger left like a deflated balloon and he just looked at Vincent, a defeated, cig-less man. 

"Does this mean you'll stop interrupting me now?" Vincent asked, for once a hopeful expression on his expressionless face. 

"Yes..." 

"Good....well and then...."   
  


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A week went by after Vincent had gotten Silver and he was starting to think that things really were looking up. His mother's sickness seemed to be fading a little. He had his best friend Silver to play with and to keep him company. His father was nowhere to be found, which to Vincent was a very good thing. Vincent felt happy. Something he hadn't been in a long time. He had even found a job at a run down bar in sector 7. He was the bar's youngest drink mixer and he had no desire to drink his creations, only to create. He was even allowed to bring Silver to the bar. Everything was wonderful...considering..... 

"Silver, are you hungary?" Vinny asked, grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge. The kitten, curled up in an old arm chair, meowed and leaped from the chair to wrap herself around her master's feet. 

Vincent laughed and poured the milk into a dish, letting the kitten greedily gulp it down. The boy pondered a moment as to what he'd do now. Gently stroking the kitten, Vincent thought as hard as he could. 

Suddenly, in the wacked out way stuff happens, a huge shadow loomed in the doorway. Vincent didn't notice until the tiny cat hissed and raised its hackles. Vincent turned around to see a bear of a man in the room, ugly sneer upon his face. 

"Vincent....." The cold voice called, muddy brown eyes boring into Vincent's own burgundy. 

Vincent's eyes widened in recognition and fear. The big man's greasy mop of jet black hair could only be described as a bird's nest of filth. The odor of liquor and cigarette smoke assaulted the youth's nose. Vincent backed away from the table, the kitten tightly cuddled in his arms. The boy squeezed the poor kitten so much, she yelped in surprise. 

"Whas dat? Yer kitten?" The slurred voice mumbled. 

"Y-y-..yes...it is." Vincent tried to steel his nerves as much as he possibly could. 

"Yes what?!?" The man bellowed, face askew in rage. 

"Yes.........f-fa....father...." Vincent muttered, thinking of as many ways as possible to get away. Vincent's heart was racing faster than any chocobo could ever hope to run. 

Vincent's father took a step forward, so that he was at the kitchen table. He was so huge that he even blotted out the feeble light from the overhead lamp. His muscles were hidden underneath an ample layer of fat. His balled fist seemed the size of Vincent's head... 

With the very same fist, he pounded the table and glowered at his son. Vincent, unable to help himself, jumped and cringed. His father laughed then he eyed the wee kitten once more, a hellish glee filling his eyes. "I like yer kitty, son. Lemme hold 'em a sec... I only wanna pet 'em." 

Vincent believed that like he believed the sun was green, which as far as he knew, the sun wasn't. Vincent tried to tell him off, but his tongue repeatedly failed him. Finally, he muttered, "No. She's mine. I won't let you!" 

A sadistic smile crept across the wicked face, showing rotten teeth. "Hmph. Think you're too good to lemme see the damn cat, do ya? Huh? DO YA, BOY!?!" 

Vincent had backed into a corner, and he looked the part of the cornered wolf. His eyes burned brightly as he stared at the hated form of his father. His lips formed a straight, thin line that didn't compliment his delicate features. 

However, in a flash--his father reached across the table and wretched the kitten from the boy's grasp. "NO!" Yelled Vincent, reaching towards impossible heights. The father looked at the squirming kitten in the palm of his clenched fist. Then, with savage joy, he snapped the kitten's neck and slammed it down on the table. Having done that, he left the room to attend to his wife... 

Vincent stared, not comprehending. Great tears of rage, anger and sadness welled up in his eyes, streaming down the smooth face. His breath came in labored gasps, and reality seemed topsy-turvy. He staggered to the table, mouth agape. The kitten lay twisted, limbs sprawled this way and that. The eyes were wide with fear, glazed in death. The tiny mouth was open in a silent plea that never came. A trickle of blood flowed from the open mouth. 

Vincent scooped up the broken form and collapsed into the nearest chair, sobbing uncontrollably. A cold, silent entity stirred itself in the young boy's soul. The rage of the crushed began to show itself in his thinking. I must find Quicksilver... If I find that, I can make everything else better... He'll leave us alone... And... We'll be free... His thoughts continued in such a pattern for moments longer, until another sound broke him from his reverie -- the sound of a heavy slap on a fragile, human frame and the sickening crunch of bones... Something inside Vincent snapped. The sadness was lost to a terrible rage. His vision still blurred from tears, he stumbled from the kitchen into a little used side room filled with relics of the past. The body of the kitten slid to the floor with a thud, as the boy set out on his mission. After several minuets of digging through useless war memorabilia, his small hands found a leather case, with a gold nameplate that read: VV. His mother's initials--Vixen Valentine. Her maiden name... 

He opened the case to reveal a beautiful, shining revolver. He wasn't sure about the ammo, but he did remember hearing once that this particular gun was special. The ammo was pure mako energy, just as strong as other ammo, and you never had to reload or worry about running out. 

Vincent lifted the gun into his hands, aiming it around and getting a feel for the weight. He already knew how to shoot, that was the only thing he remembered his mother teaching him before she went blind. 

Armed with rage and a gun, Vincent stalked off towards his mother's room for what he planned to be a final showdown with the devil that passed itself off as his father. Soft sobs echoed from the dark recesses of the master bedroom and bellowing akin to that of a bull moose was heard. Vincent steeled his nerves, walking softly but carrying a hand held weapon. 

"You $#(%!!! I've always told you how things would work and you never listen! It's about time you finally died and good riddance." The thing grumbled. 

"Why are you like this...? Things have never been the same since....never mind. You're not the man I loved nor the father of my son. You're only some terrible man sent in his place! You and the love of my life cannot possibly be the same being!" The strained voice of Vincent's mother floated to his ears as he rounded the final corner that lead to the bedroom. 

"Bitch. Shuddap, or I'll clobber you worse than ever before!!!" The mountain of a man's eyes glared savagely at the frail yet strong woman that lay under his scrutiny. 

"STOP IT!" Vincent yelled, trying to block the doorway with his small frame. His father turned to him, mouth a jagged line tore onto his face. 

"You!?! You think you can tell me to do something? Come here, and I'll show you who's gonna stop what!" He stomped over to Vincent, unaware of the weapon the boy possessed. 

"Never again shall you hit me or my mother... Never again will you come here and make us all miserable. NEVER WILL YOU HURT US AGAIN!!!" The boy screamed, leveling a gun at his father. 

The fatal mistake the man made was to laugh at the boy, who was too serious to doubt. The laughter rang in Vincent's ears and he knew the end to something was coming. Exactly to what he wasn't sure, but it was coming. 

His father refused to see the danger in the boy's eyes nor the trained way the gun was pointed at his chest. He recklessly reached toward the gun. It was his last action... 

Vincent calmly calculated the shot and squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out and hit true, the mountain tamed by the dirt at it's foot. Vincent's father fell and took his last struggling breath as the blood freely flowed from the gurgling hole. The gun slipped from limp hands and clattered to the floor. 

"So...that's the end to that..." He simply muttered, small chest heaving from pent up fears and tears. So, that's the end to an unhappy chapter in my life... I wonder how many more I will have to have. Mother always said every cloud has a silver lining...but this cloud is really BIG..... 

Vincent could only stare, only stare at what he'd done. His mother sobbed softly, she knew by the sounds of things what had happened and only thanked the gods that her son was perfectly alright.....at least physically... She finally realized that she felt a sharp pain in her chest and that her breath was coming with great difficulty. The demon's fist had landed hard on her ribs and she knew they were broken. What she didn't know was the internal damage.... 

"Vincent...come here, honey..." She gently called, beckoning him with an out-stretched hand. Vincent obediently hopped on her bed and very carefully hugged her, sobbing. All the worries and fears of older days flooded into his mind and he let them out the only way he could figure out how.......crying.... 

"Vincent.....everything'll be okay....just don't.....wonder on the past. I know you don't really understand now.....but it'll make perfect sense in the future.......I love you, Vincent..." She felt long pent-up tears flow as she clung to her son... She had a creepy feeling that it was...perhaps... the last time she'd ever feel her son... 

The boy cried until he was wore out, Vixen felt him gently slumbering against her. The pain in her chest was not unlike fire. Every movement, every breath seared her through. She managed to hang on for a few hours, but the most upsetting part about the whole ordeal was that she never got the chance to say goodbye...   
  


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"Damn...." Was all that Cid could say in the awkward silence that followed. Vincent only shrugged his thin shoulders, his face kept carefully emotionless. "I-I don't know what to say......." Cid couldn't comprehend how a parent could do that to a child, he himself had always been given proper treatment. 

"Then do not say anything. It's that simple. The point of this is not for you to speak about what I say, but simply for me to speak about such things that others will never know. The one time I told another about the same, she knew not what to say, either." Vincent's back was to Cid now. The dark man's shoulders sagged beneath an invisible weight that plagued him, as Cid realized that the two deaths only signaled the tip of the glacier. 

"I-I know..." Cid stammered, "it's just that......gods....Vincent. Just.... gods. Who should have to go through such trauma at such an age and live on to go through more? #%)*$#^ it! The injustices in the world! )*@$)*$#%(#_@*@_*$@_^*$_#*$^(_#%(_@*_!*@_*$@_$*!!!!!" Cid threw himself with great zeal into the outpouring of cussing and rambling that ensued. Vincent was touched at Cid's compassion and found it oddly comforting. Comforting that anyone cared. To Vincent, people more often then not tended not to care and not to act on any shred of compassion that they contained. 

"Alright... enough Cid." Vincent muttered softly as Cid's curses ceased. Vincent glanced back at Cid and asked, "What is the time? The others are surely about by now. The sun rides much higher in the sky than when we started." 

Cid stared stupidly a moment, then looked at his watch. "Yep. It's after seven. Boy...When you tell a story....you sure tell it." Cid still didn't know what to say, so he-as usual- winged it. 

"Well, you are the Captain of this vessel." Vincent left the rest of the statement unsaid, Cid knew it already anyway. 

"I know. 'So you should treat your guests like guests and be there to help'. But seriously Vincent, Cloud has learned where the towels are and Barrett can find his own damn cup. I ain't no maid for you people. Tifa worked in a bar--make her the resident maid if you're that bad off!!! For a dead-looking guy who talks as much as a rock, you sure are conscious about manners!!!" 

"We rocks tend to be that way, we just never talked about before!" Vincent smiled-although a bit feigned-and walked back into the bowels of the airship. 

Cid's jaw dropped, cig taking a brief dive before flying into the plaines below. "He....he......? Did he just make a joke about himself or something? Jeez, that beer with the boys last night must've been too much....Or I'm just loosin it....again...." 

*Well, I hope ya'll enjoyed it.   
  


Be kind. Review. 

NO DA (I have discovered the evil of Fushigi Yuugi!!!   
  


Love ya, my readers!   
  


VTK   
  


^,-,^ 


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